


Fly With Me

by SnellbyKay



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Do I need a warning for smoking and booze, Dream Sex, It's real tame, Kissing, Look I cant choose tags to save my life, M/M, Magicians, Pining, Two dads kind of pining after each other I guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:08:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27690499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnellbyKay/pseuds/SnellbyKay
Summary: Yuusaku Kudo wasn’t sure how he ended up alone, standing on the rooftop of the local museum, facing down none other than the Kaitou Kid himself; unarmed and unafraid of the spectre slowly approaching him.  Kid held himself with an undeniable showman-like grace, and before Yuusaku could prepare himself to fight, the Phantom Thief was upon him, whispering in his ear, catching him uncharacteristically off guard.“Fly with me.  Just once?”
Relationships: Kudou Yuusaku/Kuroba Touichi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

Yuusaku Kudo wasn’t sure how he ended up alone, standing on the rooftop of the local museum, facing down none other than the Kaitou Kid himself; unarmed and unafraid of the spectre slowly approaching him. Kid held himself with an undeniable showman-like grace, and before Yuusaku could prepare himself to fight, the Phantom Thief was upon him, whispering in his ear, catching him uncharacteristically off guard. 

“Fly with me. Just once?” 

Before Yuusaku could even protest, Kid was removing his signature mask, pressing the delicate porcelain into his hands. The detective was suddenly very aware of two things: his bare fingertips leaving incriminating prints behind, and the mask’s unexpected warmth. 

“Won’t anyone recognize you without this?” He asked. 

Kid laughed.

“Thinking of turning me in, are you _meitantei?”_

“It _did_ cross my mind. After all, that’s what I came here to do,” 

“ _I came here to catch you.”_ Yuusaku said to himself, trying to ignore the thrill he felt at the thought of seeing the Phantom Thief’s true face. Kid replied with a wry smirk, eyes still shadowed by the low brim of his hat; but for the first time since the heist had begun, he seemed completely, wholly, vulnerably human. Not a ghost or a spectre that appeared in the night. Not something dancing just painfully out of his reach. Something tangible and real and…

Beautiful. 

He’d be lying if he said that the thought of finally getting to join the phantom thief in the sky wasn’t causing his heart to race. 

“I’m a master of disguise. Even if someone _does_ see me, will they really believe it’s not another trick?”

Yuusaku laughed softly. 

“I suppose not.”

With that, Yuusaku raised the mask up to his face, struggling to fasten the unfamiliar claps correctly. Wordlessly, Kid leaned over to assist, drawing incredibly close, close enough for the detective to feel his warm breath against his skin. Whether or not it was too close, or not close enough, Yuusaku couldn’t say for sure, despite the heat rising in his cheeks. 

“It takes a little practice.” Kid said, “But after a few times, you’ll get used to it.” 

_After a few times…_

“This is a one time thing.” Yuusaku replied, pulling away, catching his reflection on the metal roof, seeing the face of a ghost staring back at him. 

The Phantom Thief chuckled, abruptly grabbing Yuusaku’s wrist, pulling him from his thoughts, leading him to the edge of the roof where all of Beika was sprawled out below them. 

“Of course it is.” The thief replied, his cape billowing in the warm summer wind. “I’m a gentleman thief, am I not?” 

His words were truthless, edged with the mischievous intent of a trickster god. 

Yuusaku swallowed. 

“How are we doing this?” 

“I’ll carry you, and we’ll fly.” 

“Is your glider strong enough?” 

“Of course!”

“Are _you_ strong enough.” 

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” 

And then Kid’s arms were around him, firm and powerful and sturdy. Reassuring. 

“You can hold onto my neck, if you’d like.” Kid whispered into his ear, before leaping from the edge of the roof, sending the two of them into a freefall. Yuusaku found that he couldn’t even scream. His fingers dug into the front of Kid’s jacket as the wind roared in his ears. All he could see was the sky hanging above them, and the Phantom Thief's smiling face in full for the first time. 

It was a face that he knew. 

“Don’t worry!” Kid shouted. There was the sound of pressure being unleashed, a _snap_ as the world stopped moving so fast…

And they were flying. 

“Looks like I _am_ strong enough to hold you. I just have to be careful to never let you go.”

Kid navigated the night with an ease and grace that Yuusaku couldn’t fathom, his soul tethered to the wind and its whims. They rose higher, higher, into the skies above Beika until all of the buildings below looked like models, and the crowd that had gathered for Kid’s latest heist were nothing more than ants. Slowly, tentatively, Yuusaku’s grip on Kid’s jacket lessened, and he found his arms twining around the other man’s neck. 

For safety, of course. 

“This is my favorite part.” Kid whispered, his lips suddenly worryingly close to Yuusaku’s ear, so much so that the detective could feel his breath blossom hot against his skin. “The night sky holds a magic all its own. Can you feel it?” 

He could. 

Yuusaku had always felt a pull, a calling once the sun had set, a force that led him to walk aimlessly through the city in the night, looking up at the moon, searching for something he couldn’t quite articulate. Was this it? Was this what he’d been waiting for?

He’d tried for years to fill the void with something; with detective work, with travel, with writing, chasing the adrenaline rush of accomplishment he got from making all the loose ends meet, from solving puzzles, from finding clues. But would it be enough after this? 

Would it ever be enough ever again?

* * *

The two eventually landed on the roof of the Haido Hotel, far from where they had originally taken flight. Yuusaku found himself stumbling on uncertain legs, trying to get his bearings as he was forced to return to solid ground. It was harder than he had thought it would be, though Kid had no such trouble, disengaging his glider with ease, rushing to Yuusaku’s side as the other man struggled. 

“It takes practice.” Kid soothed, intertwining Yuusaku’s arm with his own, allowing the detective to lean on him. “But I can feel your heart racing. Your knees are weak, your senses heightened. The adrenaline rush of a heist is something unforgettable, isn’t it?” 

Yuusaku flinched as cotton-covered finger-tips trailed along his throat, hooking underneath the porcelain mask he wore, removing it agonizingly slowly. His heart felt like it was racing too fast, the sound of blood rushing deafeningly in his ears. Once Kid had finally removed the mask entirely, he held it dramatically up to the moonlight, before drawing the delicate porcelain to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the smooth surface. 

“This is all the evidence you would need to catch me, _Meitantei.”_ The Phantom Thief said, returning the mask to Yuusaku’s trembling hands. His voice was low, serious, his infectious bravado set aside for one painfully, undeniably intimate moment in time. “Whatever you decide to do with it, I leave my fate in your hands” 

With that, Kid pulled away, and Yuusaku reflexively reached out to stop him, trying to grasp the man’s sleeve before he could escape. 

_I came here to catch you…Toichi Kuroba_

But the Phantom Thief was faster than him–more agile and suited for this life than him– and before Yuusaku knew it, Kid had taken to the air once more…

And he was left standing on the rooftop alone.

  
  
  



	2. I Still See you in My Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantom Thief grinned–showing off teeth that seemed almost inhumanly sharp in the moonlight–before pulling Yuusaku’s hand to his lips, dotting kisses along his knuckles, leaving small splotches of red in his wake. Blood? Lipstick? Yuusaku blinked through bleary eyes, unable to shake the feeling that he was a rabbit caught in a snare; prey trapped in the thrall of a conniving fox poised to swallow him whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timeline is hecked up. Takes places after the Sakura Class arc. Kogoro is a rookie detective. Yuusaku still doesn't have the mustache. I'm very anxious about writing spicy stuff, so I'm sorry if it's bad. I don't know how an intercom system works, I'm poor.

**_CHAPTER 2: I STILL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS_ **

* * *

**_Time passes. Weddings are had, children are born, occupations change, but some memories refuse to fade away._ **

* * *

_ “Have you made your decision?” _

_ Yuusaku swallowed thickly, taking a few cautious steps to the edge of the roofline, eyes locked on the white gloved hand held out as an offering for him to take. Slowly, he reached for it, ignoring how his fingers trembled, how his pulse quickened as he felt the man’s hand tighten around his own. The thief’s grip was firm. Final.  _

_ The Phantom Thief  _ **_grinned–_ ** _ showing off teeth that seemed almost inhumanly sharp in the moonlight–before pulling Yuusaku’s hand to his lips, dotting kisses along his knuckles, leaving small splotches of red in his wake. Blood? Lipstick? Yuusaku blinked through bleary eyes, unable to shake the feeling that he was a rabbit caught in a snare; prey trapped in the thrall of a conniving fox poised to swallow him whole.  _

_ And yet, it felt natural to close the gap between them, to lean forward for a kiss that started off tentative, but quickly became heated. Natural to lose himself to sensation, to press into touches and let moans escape his lips; to indulge in the feeling of vulnerability. To gasp and pant and grin and writhe in a display that came as easily as breathing.  _

_ “It’s been almost a decade.” Kid whispered against his lips, eyes still shrouded by the wide brim of his hat. “Have you truly held onto my memory for so long? Have you really been unable to move on?”  _

_ Yuusaku wanted to answer, but every word he tried to speak turned to thick honey on his tongue, especially as a rough gloved hand worked its way beneath the hem of his dress shirt, moving upwards agonizingly slowly. There was so much he wanted to say; so much he wanted alongside  _ **_this_ ** **.** __

_ But this wasn’t real. It was never real.  _

_ “Are you leaving so soon?” Toichi crooned, running the pad of his thumb over Yuusaku’s lips. “I wasn’t done yet.”  _

_ “I think…” Yuusaku said, fighting against the heaviness of his tongue. Fighting against his own reluctance to speak the words he knew he had to say. “I think I have to go.” _

_ “Ahh...A pity. But you’ll be back.”  _

_ Toichi left him with one last lingering kiss, before pulling away, moving closer and closer to the edge of the rooftop, until he was falling backwards into the abyss; his cape billowing around him as he dropped impossibly fast, arm still held out for Yuusaku to take despite the space growing between them.  _

**_You’ll always be back…_ **

* * *

Yuusaku opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom as slowly, agonizingly, everything came back into focus. 

Just a dream. Again. 

Birds chirped outside. Cars rushed by. The familiar sounds of his life trickled in, pushing his dream further and further away, until it was little more than a vague recollection lingering at the edges of his mind.

And he was painfully alone.

Yukiko had taken Shinichi to visit one of her actor friends in the States, Sharon Vineyard, and while Yuusaku was supposed to be working on his latest novel as the deadline drew nearer and nearer, the house was just so quiet and empty without his family, that he had mostly spent his time aimlessly walking through the city and napping. It also didn’t help that whenever he tried to sit down, to hash out the latest misadventures of the Night Baron, visions of a different notorious thief crept in, clothed in white and bathed in moonlight. He found himself more often than not typing only a few words before he needed to go for a walk. Before he needed to have lunch. Before he needed to call Yukiko to hear her voice.

It had been a dismally unproductive week. 

* * *

Rain started to fall in the afternoon, fat wet droplets that flooded the streets and pinged against the roof of the Kudo mansion. As evening came, the storm showed no signs of letting up, low thunder rolling across the city in waves. Yuusaku was just about to settle down in the study with a cup of tea and a good book when the intercom situated in the entryway crackled to life, and the familiar, if not slightly unwelcome, voice of Kogoro Mouri interrupted his peace. 

“Oi Kudo! Lemme in, I gotta talk to you, okay?”

Yuusaku shuffled to the front door, peering through the peephole to confirm that it was indeed, Kogoro Mouri, the husband of Yukiko’s childhood friend, the father of Shinichi’s very close classmate, Ran, and a man who had, from these associations, become increasingly tangled up in Yuusaku’s life. 

Mouri was still dressed in his work suit; wrinkled and rumpled from a long day of filing tedious paperwork, no doubt, soaked from seemingly walking all the way on foot from the precinct without an umbrella. He entered the house dripping wet, his normally slicked back hair falling out of formation, his nose running. Yuusaku brought him a towel and a change of clothes, before the two of them settled down across from each other in the living room. 

“Ah, I hope these didn’t get too wet.” Mouri said, pulling several wrinkled polaroids from inside his soaked suit jacket, attempting to flatten out the creases before dramatically sliding them across the coffee table’s polished surface. They were photographs of photographs, hastily taken by someone who didn’t want to be noticed; images of police evidence, likely things that Mouri shouldn’t have seen and shouldn’t be showing him. 

“There was a Kid heist the other day. I’m sure you heard that though.” 

Yuusaku tried to keep his face neutral as he reached forward to take one of the photographs, inspecting it closer, confirming that the book in the photo was indeed one of his own, the latest Night Baron novel to be exact, cracked open to a stylised illustration of the titular character. However, the baron’s ghostly visage, hidden beneath a grinning porcelain mask, had been scrawled over in red ink, the written message clearly intended for one person, and one person alone. 

_ Is this what you think of me,  _ **_meitantei_ ** _? _

“They found one of your books at the crime scene.” Mouri continued, oblivious to the panic growing in Yuusaku’s chest. “Inspector Nakamori has been grasping at straws trying to catch the Kid, and he finally has some kind of lead. Unfortunately, that lead is you.” 

Mouri continued to rifle around in his suit until he found a soggy pack of cigarettes and a banged up lighter. After some more shuffling, he managed to locate a cigarette that wasn’t completely waterlogged, and lit it with surprising grace, taking a long drag before continuing. 

“I got called in as backup for the latest heist.” Mouri said with a deep exhale, smoke curling around him as he lounged against the back of the couch, putting up his best calm front. “It was the first time I’ve had to wear SWAT gear since the academy, but I guess protecting some rocks for some rich people calls for it. Eri was mad that I got home so late.” The man shrugged absently, but the rigidity of his posture easily denoted that the entire ordeal had him much more upset than he was letting on. With each encounter, Mouri was becoming more haggard, more chaotic, more jaded. 

Yuusaku caught a slight tremor in Mouri’s hand as he brought the cigarette to his lips for another puff. 

His days on the force were numbered. 

“Kid got the better of us, if you hadn’t guessed. Nakamori’s  _ livid _ . He’s raging around, grasping at straws, just overall being a real jackass. And unfortunately, you’re his only lead right now, so it’s only a matter of time before he comes knocking.”

“Ah. Thank you, Mouri.” 

Mouri shrugged again, stamping out his cigarette butt in the coffee table ashtray, before immediately lighting another. 

“Feh. I would have lost my daughter without you, so I guess I owed you one.”

They sat and continued to talk for a while, Mouri moving on from chain smoking to sampling some of Yuusaku’s extensive international liquor collection. He was a loud drunk, but as conversation moved on from the Phantom Thief, they shifted to telling detective stories, and while Mouri wasn’t nearly the detective Yuusaku was (had been?), it was much better than being alone in a sprawling mansion, haunted by the memories of a ghost dressed all in white. 

_ Is this what you think of me,  _ **_meitantei_ ** _? _

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review~.


End file.
